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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26560786">Shovel Talk (The One who Always Knew)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginationisrainbowcoloured/pseuds/imaginationisrainbowcoloured'>imaginationisrainbowcoloured</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Found Family, M/M, Minor Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins, Pre-Canon, Racetrack Higgins (mentioned) - Freeform, Shovel Talk</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:34:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,533</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26560786</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginationisrainbowcoloured/pseuds/imaginationisrainbowcoloured</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Albert DaSilva did not get scared or nervous or anxious. All the Manhattan newsies knew that, nothing could scare him. Or at least nothing had previously scared him. Standing on the Brooklyn end of the Brooklyn bridge, staring down Brooklyn's second and trying not to think about the number of newsies that could be hiding in the shadows apparently was the thing that scared him.</p><p>A brief portion of his mind thought that he should have listened to Davey who has told him everyone was afraid of something.</p><p>"Where's Racer?" Hotshot eventually asked, in response to Albert's nervous statement that he was here to see Spot.</p><p>"Uh, Back in Manhattan."</p><p>"Why ain't he here?"</p><p>"Because I want to speak to Spot about Race."</p><p>Hotshot's demeanour changed slightly, "he isn't hurt, is he?"</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Albert DaSilva &amp; Racetrack Higgins, Spot Conlon &amp; Albert DaSilva, Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>84</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Shovel Talk (The One who Always Knew)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is like a companion to my other work '4 Times People Found Out they Were dating &amp; The One who always knew' but you don't have to read that for this to make sense.<br/>Race doesn't actually make an appearance in this one, despite being the focus of everyone's conversations lmao, so u might wanna read that if u actually wanna see Race.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Albert DaSilva did not get scared or nervous or anxious. All the Manhattan newsies knew that, nothing could scare him. Or at least nothing had previously scared him. Standing on the Brooklyn end of the Brooklyn bridge, staring down Brooklyn's second and trying not to think about the number of newsies that could be hiding in the shadows apparently was the thing that scared him.</p><p>A brief portion of his mind thought that he should have listened to Davey who has told him everyone was afraid of something.</p><p>"Where's Racer?" Hotshot eventually asked, in response to Albert's nervous statement that he was here to see Spot.</p><p>"Uh, Back in Manhattan."</p><p>"Why ain't he here?"</p><p>"Because I want to speak to Spot about Race."</p><p>Hotshot's demeanour changed slightly, "he isn't hurt, is he?"</p><p>“What? No.”</p><p>There was a very long pause, during which Hotshot did not blink once and yet some of the hidden newsies moved to stand behind Albert, preventing him from making the hasty escape that he had been considering.</p><p>“Alright.” Hotshot finally said, “C’mon.”</p><p>With that, she turned sharply on her heel and began to walk away. Albert gaped after her for a couple of seconds until a sharp shove in the back made him start walking after her. As they moved, a few newsies moved with them- flanking Albert on every side- while others moved back into their previous position, guarding their end of the bridge.</p><p>They passed the docks, despite the fact that it wasn’t on the way to the Brooklyn lodging house, which meant that Hotshot was either parading him around so all the Brooklyn newsies knew to cover up when Spot inevitably had him killed, or it meant that Hotshot didn’t actually know where Spot was. Albert was pretty certain that the Brooklyn newsies all had some weird homing system for where Spot was, so it had to be the first one.</p><p>Brooklyn-Kloppman didn’t seem particularly bothered by their small procession as it entered the lodging house, nor did he seem to care about Albert’s presence, nor the fact that some of the newsies flanking him proceeded to set up around the perimeter of their small entrance hall. He glanced at Albert once, grunted at Hotshot’s greeting and went back to reading his paper.</p><p>“He’s here to see Spot.” Hotshot told another newsie who seemed to be guarding the stairs up to the rooms the newsies actually slept in. They were let past with no comments from the guard or anyone else and Hotshot led him up the stairs.</p><p>“How do you guys make enough if some of you are guarding all the time?” He asked her, </p><p>She glanced back at him, confused, “Don’t you leave guards at your lodging house?”</p><p>“No. We’ve got Kloppman.”</p><p>She looked even more confused at that.</p><p>“Our caretaker?”</p><p>“Oh. Ours couldn’t hold off newsies if they wanted get in.”</p><p>Albert considered that- it was a fair comment, and he was pretty sure that Kloppman would go down very fast if there was an actual fight to get into the Manhattan lodging, but nobody ever did. “Do people try and break in a lot?”</p><p>“Mind your own business, DaSilva.”</p><p>Slightly surprised that she actually knew who he was, Albert shut up. </p><p>*<br/>
Spot’s room was apparently at the very top of the lodging house and, unlike the few other private rooms they had passed, had a door, which Hotshot paused to knock on.<br/>
There was a small landing in front of the door, but aside from that it was pretty much just the top of the stairs, with no other rooms surrounding it. Albert thought about Race, and what he had realised about Race’s relationship with Spot and grinned. Albert thought about his reasons for being here and realised that nobody would hear him scream if Spot decided to kill him, he stopped grinning.</p><p>The door opened abruptly, jerking Albert out of his thoughts, and revealing Spot- fully dressed and twirling his cane.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>Hotshot stepped sideways slightly to reveal Albert, “He wants to talk to you.”</p><p>Spot shrugged and stepped aside to let Albert in, “Where’s Racer?”</p><p>“Back in ‘Hattan apparently.”</p><p>“He sick?”</p><p>“No!” Albert interjected, “Why do people think that?”</p><p>“Kelly doesn’t normally send anyone else.”</p><p>“Oh, Jack didn’t send me.”</p><p>Hotshot looked sideways at him, and Albert realised that he- some random newsie- had just shown up in Brooklyn, demanding to speak to their king, without any official reason. Spot just looked vaguely amused and nodded at Hotshot- which was apparently her cue because, with one last glance at Albert- she turned and jogged back down the stairs.<br/>
Spot stepped back into his room and gestured for Albert to take a seat on one of the chairs. There was a bed pressed up against one wall- not a bunk bed- and it was slightly bigger than any of the ones Albert had ever slept in. Aside from the bed, there was a cupboard on the opposing wall, and a desk in the centre of the room which Spot sat on, waiting for Albert to speak.</p><p>“Nice place.”</p><p>“Thanks.”</p><p>“Cowboy don’t have a desk.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>Albert’s eyes continued to flick around the room, suddenly very very nervous. What had he been thinking? It had seemed like such a good idea at the start of the day to walk over and give Spot Conlon a talk about what would happen if he ever dared to hurt Racer, but now- sitting in Spot’s office, after being given a casual reminder of how organised the Brooklyn newsies were- he was wondering if he should just leave.</p><p>“Did you come here for a reason?” Spot eventually asked, tapping his cane on the floor and looking down on Albert- something he quickly realised he didn’t like.<br/>
“Yes.” Albert finally got out, standing up so he didn’t feel so small. “It’s about Race.”</p><p>Spot frowned, the cane stopping its tapping, leaving the room in absolute silence, “You said he wasn’t hurt.”</p><p>“He’s not. And it better stay that way.”</p><p>“DaSilva, I have no idea what you are saying.”</p><p>Albert took a deep breath. “You and Racer, you’re…” he made some kind of vague gesture with his hands that was supposed to encompass Spot and Race’s relationship. Despite the vagueness, Spot apparently caught onto what he was saying because his face hardened suddenly,</p><p>“You got a problem with that?”</p><p>“No! No! I just…”</p><p>“You just…?”</p><p>“Race is my best friend,” Albert told him, finally managing to get to the script that he had been planning out. “And I love him a lot.”</p><p>“Ok.”</p><p>“And, and I kinda get the impression that you do too. Love him.”</p><p>“Ok.”</p><p>“Which is good, because Race deserves good things in his life, even if people think you’re bad.”</p><p>Spot was listening, but his face suggested he still had no idea where Albert was going with his slightly fragmented monologue. “Ok.”</p><p>“But I think you’re good for Race, he smiles way more now, and I think he actually looks forward to new days, not like most of us, you know we’re just trudging through life with no goal other than to survive…”</p><p>Spot looked particularly concerned by that.</p><p>“Anyway, Race is happy because of you- and it better stay that way.” Albert brought himself up to his full height, which was quite a bit taller than Spot, and balled his hands into fists in order to look as threatening as possible.</p><p>“Are you…” Spot paused like he wasn’t quite sure what to say, “are you threatening me?”</p><p>“Yes. I mean no! I mean…” Albert swallowed and remembered the fact that no one would hear him scream, “Only if you hurt Racer, if you do that- I’ll hurt you.”</p><p>The room was silent again, not even Spot’s cane to fill the silence. And then Spot stood up slowly and walked over until they were nose to nose (or as close as you can get when there’s half a foot in height between you.)</p><p>“If I hurt Racer,” he said, more serious than Albert had ever heard, “I’ll give you the tools to hurt me, myself.”</p><p>“Good.” Albert said, resisting the urge to back up, “I’m glad we agree.”</p><p>“Me too,”</p><p>“Right. Well, uh.”</p><p>“You should be heading back to ‘Hattan.”</p><p>“Yes, yes I should.”</p><p>Spot nodded and stepped back, opening the door. Hotshot was leaning at the bottom of the small flight leading up to the door.</p><p>“Escort DaSilva back to Manhattan.” Spot told her.</p><p>“Yes, boss.”</p><p>“Say hi to Race for me.”</p><p>They both nodded at that, unsure which of them he was addressing, and then Albert was walking down the stairs, Hotshot at his side and Spot’s eyes on his back.</p><p>*<br/>
“This is you.” Hotshot said, pointlessly, as they stopped at the bridge.</p><p>“Yeah, thanks for the escort.”</p><p>“What did you tell him?” she asked, as Albert turned to finish his journey,</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“Spot,” she clarified, “what did you tell him?”</p><p>“I told him if he hurts Race, I’ll hurt him.”</p><p>She laughed, “Good.”</p><p>And then she turned away, and Albert was left to walk the Brooklyn Bridge by himself, still feeling the eyes of Brooklyn’s newsies on his back.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i absolutely do not proofread any of these just fyi so tell me if i made any major errors &amp; also tell me if i didn't<br/>comments make me happy &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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